


Give me Attention

by Mustard_Fairy



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Murderdolls
Genre: Diapers, Forced infantilism, Infantilism, Pants wetting, Situational Humiliation, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 09:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5086576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mustard_Fairy/pseuds/Mustard_Fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey is a brat. His band mates just can't handle him right now, so they call upon someone who can. They call upon a man who is more than willing to put little bratty baby Joey in his place!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give me Attention

Joey had always been somewhat of a brat. He was rude to his band members, got destructive, and threw horrible tantrums. Yes, they were temper tantrums, much like a child's. Joey was very much like a child, and the band members were growing tired of his persistent fits. If he was in a bad mood, he was going to make the rest of them feel like shit too. If he didn't get his way, he would make them feel as if it ware their fault. It just wasn't fair for them to have to deal with it. Wednesday always tried to help calm Joey when he needed, but no satisfying results were given. They didn't want to fire him, he was pretty much the founder of the band, Murderdolls, anyway, but they wanted something to be done. Joey needed consequences for his actions, that's why they called Manson.

Murderdolls had set up a tour with Marilyn Manson, as if to show them what they had to deal with almost on a regular basis. They knew the front man would not put up with Joey's belligerent attitude. "We need help," Wednesday told Manson over the phone, "with Joey, I mean, we can't do this anymore with him, we just aren't able to handle his outbursts." Manson cleared his throat, "So what made you come to me for help?" he asked in his deep dark voice. There was a pause for a moment, "Um, well..." Wednesday started, "Well, it's come to my attention that you've dealt with problems like this before?" Manson evilly grinned, "That I have." he said. "So your little guitarist is acting like a bratty child? Then I'll come over there and I'll treat him like one." Wednesday swallowed hard, he wasn't sure if he'd made the right decision or not, "Alright, that sounds good, then." No turning back now. The decision was made, and the tour was on. Joey's chaotic fits of rage would finally be driven into the dirt and put to rest.

The first couple shows played through really well. Joey hardly fussed, it seemed as though he was on his best behavior, but by the fourth concert, he took a turn for the worst. Luckily, Wednesday had told Manson to be prepared for the worst. Manson had dealt with plenty of bratty adults before, he knew exactly what to do. He was very prepared, as he watched for potential warning signs of an outburst. He would make Joey Jordison regret ever acting so horrible toward his band members.

That night, the crowd seemed to enjoy Manson more than Murderdolls, and that pissed Joey off. With all he's done, he felt he never got the attention he deserved. The fans all gushed over everyone in the band but him, it felt like. The 'dolls' finished up their set with 'I Love to say Fuck', leaving the crowd screaming for more. After the concert, both bands willingly signed a few autographs. Of course, as always, Joey felt neglected and angry. He felt the fans wanted anyone's autograph but his. As if that wasn't enough to make Joey ticked off, Manson kept glaring at him, mockingly. It was like he knew, he could see the jealousy in him.

But after a bit, Joey began successfully flirting with a hot blonde, which made him push his feelings of jealousy and anger aside. The girl was likely in her mid-twenties, bubbly and talkative, with a killer smile and large breasts. Manson saw this and thought it would be fun to mess with him. He turned to Pogo and whispered something to him, something that made the blonde man grin evilly. Hell, why not get the other band mates in on the humiliation, too? It's had great results in the past. Manson looked over to Wednesday with a look that said, 'I am definitely up to something.' Wednesday grew nervous, and watched as Pogo began walking up to Joey and the bubbly blonde woman, knowing full well that something was about to happen.

Pogo stood in front of the couple, looking back at Manson for approval before speaking. "You're falling for an attention whore, Ma'am," he said. She turned to him with a look of shock, "Excuse me?" Joey glared at Pogo, his face turning red, as he kept his mouth shut. "You're falling for an attention whore," repeated Pogo, smirking. The blonde woman looked confused, as she turned to Joey in disbelief. Joey spoke, trying hard to fish the rage in his voice, "That's not true," was all that came out. Pogo shrugged and turned back to the woman, "You can believe what you want, dear, but it's the truth," he continued. He knew what he was doing to the smaller man.

Joey's blood was at a boil and he snapped, "Fuck off!" he blurted out, making the woman beside him jump at his tone. Pogo grinned. Now it was time to push some buttons. "He's just in denial," he said, staring evilly into Joeys blue eyes with his own, "but the truth is, that bratty-baby Joey wants nothing but sex and attention." His words came out as a mocking tone, almost like a cooing that Joey couldn't stand. His band mates all watched anxiously at what was about to happen. Pogo tilted his head toward them, "Just ask his band." he said. The woman looked down, disappointment in her face. It probably wasn't the first time she'd been used just for sex, with a body like that. "Um...Thanks for the autograph," she whispered, quite sadly. She slowly stepped away from Joey in embarrassment for both of them and walked away.

Pogo grinned at Joey evilly, as the smaller man glared at him. "Oops," the blonde said with a chuckle, "guess she couldn't handle hearing the whole truth." Joey made a bold move, he went over to the tall keyboardist and shoved him. "What the fuck is your problem, man?!" he yelled. The shove didn't seem to effect Pogo much, he stumbled back a step or two then straightened his posture. "Little brats like you," he said in an annoyed tone. There was fire in Joey's eyes as he took Pogo's keyboard from the equipment and threw it to the pavement in a rage. Pogo's eyes widened in shock. "Where the fuck do you come off calling me a brat, huh?!" yelled Joey, "Your fucking band comes out for a god damn tour and you guys act like you know everything!" He turned to Wednesday, standing with Acey, Eric, and Ben. "Did you set this up just to piss me off? Because if you did, congratulations, it's fucking working!" Wednesday had a look of guilt on his face as he turned away toward Manson, who gave a reassuring look, letting him know that he did the right thing.

Pogo had enough, as he grabbed Joey by his shirt collar, "Does it make you feel like a big tough guy?" he growled, "Yelling at everyone, throwing instruments?" The tall blonde had Joey in tight grip, he had been fighting back the urge to punch the smaller man, and Manson could tell. Pogo's patience were running out quickly, it was time for the front man to take control of the situation. He calmly walked over and stepped between the two, "I've got this, Pogs," he said. Pogo looked and Manson, then back at Joey before letting him go and walking away, huffing and mumbling angrily about his broken keyboard. Joey looked up at Manson and a sudden panic washed over him. Manson was much taller than him. For a moment, there was a flash of terror in his eyes, and Manson saw that.

Terrified or not, Manson knew he needed to be stern with the younger man. "Get in the bus," he said. Joey blinked and he looked confused, "What?" Manson pointed toward his tour bus, "You heard me," he said sternly, "get in the bus." Joey stepped back in refusal, and Manson took hold of his arm. "Now." growled the singer. Joey froze, looking back at everyone else awkwardly watching in the distance. Manson sighed and pulled the guitarist in the direction of the bus, turning back to everyone else. "Guys, we're leaving in ten, staying at the hotel tonight, meet us there," was all he said as he dragged the unwilling man into the bus with him. The door was slammed shut behind them.

The two men were alone in the tour bus now, and Joey was starting to blow his 'cool' mode. He swallowed hard as Manson turned to him, a somewhat angry look on his face. "Mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing, Jordison?" he asked, crossing his arms. Joey was lost for words at first, "W-What?" he asked. Manson chuckled and pushed him without force into a seat, while he continued to stand. He was about to have a calm, man-to-man conversation with the guitarist, but Joey felt intimidated by the tall singer. "No! Why don't you tell me what the fuck YOU'RE doing!" Joey snapped, standing right back up. Manson's face had softened before only to tighten up with anger once again. "I'm doing what's best for you!" yelled Manson, "Did you really feel it was necessary to break Pogo's keyboard like that?" Joey did not answer, he only glared at Manson and pouted. How typical.

Manson wasn't going to play any more of Joey's childish games. He forcefully spun the guitarist around, and bent him over, holding his hands behind his back. "You're so immature, Joey," growled the singer. With those words, one large hand was swiftly planted down onto Joey's ass. The smaller man jumped and yelped in pain. Manson continued on, "You don't seem to realize how immature you really are," another hit, and Joey was nearing tears, "You act like such a brat and you expect to get away with it?" He wanted an answer this time, if not, the spankings would surely get worse, "Answer me," commanded the singer. Another very hard hit was given.

A sob escaped Joey, he tried so hard to hold it in, "No!" he yelled. Tears started to tumble down his cheeks as another smack was given to his ass. Manson raised a nonexistent eyebrow, "Oh?" he said, "You don't expect to get away with it?" Joey bit his lip and his eyes closed shut as he quietly cried. He was so humiliated, being spanked by the Anti-Christ himself, in the back of a tour bus. "Could it be?" asked Manson, giving Joey yet another hit, "That Pogo was right, and you want attention from all this?" Joey's sobs became louder with Manson's allegations, and the older man knew right then and there, he was right. They both knew, Joey wanted, no, he needed attention. He was desperate for it.

Before Manson could do anything more to the weeping man, the bus door opened and the rest of Marilyn Manson came piling in for the short ride to the hotel they and Murderdolls had been staying in. They stopped when they saw Manson holding Joey tightly, mid-spanking. They knew exactly what was going on. Manson figured the rest of Joey's 'punishment' would be done at the hotel. "Come with me," he said flatly, letting Joey up and leading him by his arm to a corner of the bus. He made him face the corner, like a child, "You stay there and not make a sound, understand?" growled the singer. Joey nodded, sniffling softly. He was no longer the cool, tough guy he tried so hard to be, he was a bratty toddler, crying in the corner with a sore ass. He felt disappointed with himself for acting such a way.

Unfortunately, Joey needed to relieve himself, badly. He kept his legs tightly closed and tried to hold it, he looked over to see where Manson was. He was over by Pogo, talking to him, quietly so Joey couldn't hear, but he could make some of it out. "It's smashed pretty bad........get a new one.......make him pay........apologize........handle this," were the bits that he heard. Everyone else on the bus was quiet, they did not want to interfere. Joey squeaked a little for attention, desperate to use the bathroom. Manson looked over and glared a bit, putting his finger to his lips in warning. Joey felt embarrassed as he held his crotch and did a 'pee dance' to show the rock star he needed the bathroom. Manson smirked and was about to turn to him when Pogo yelled out angrily, "Come on, Manson! Make him apologize! And make him pay for a new one!" Manson turned to the blonde, putting his hand on his shoulder, and whispered something to calm him. A few seconds later, Pogo nodded, calmed a bit, and Manson was making his way to Joey.

Manson leaned down toward the short man, "Pogo is very upset. I want you to apologize to him," he told him. Joey squirmed and whined, "Can I at least use the bathroom first?" he asked. The motion of the bus wasn't helping his bladder. Manson knew this would add to the humiliation for him, "Telling him that you're sorry won't take that long," he said, "then afterward, I'll take you to the potty. Okay?" He sounded as if he was talking to a two year-old. Joey pouted, knowing that he didn't have a choice. He turned from the corner, taking every bit of strength not to pee on himself as he slowly made his way over to Pogo, who looked angry while waiting for him. "I can't do this," Joey whined. Manson sighed, frustrated, "Look, the sooner you do it, the sooner you can go to the bathroom. You're not gonna get to use it if you don't be a good boy and apologize." He spanked Joey again, not as hard as before, but enough to make him move faster, and enough to make him almost lose control.

He went over to Pogo, unable to make eye contact with him. "Sorry," Joey said flatly. Pogo crossed his arms, not satisfied, "What?" he asked. Joey gritted his teeth, trying to summon the courage to say it and sound half-hearted, at least. "I'm sorry!" he repeated, louder, "I'm sorry I broke your stupid keyboard!" he was getting cocky again. He really sounded like a child right now. Pogo looked at Joey, then at Manson, and shook his head, "I don't think he means it, Manson. Better spank him again." he said, smirking evilly in triumph. Manson agreed, wasting no time, and held Joey with his hands behind his back in the same position as before. He made the little brat bend over, and ten blistering hits were given to his already sore bottom. Joey cried out in pain.

Those ten hits were enough to make Joey lose all control, and he gasped as he began wetting himself, right then and there, in front of everyone. The warmth spread over his crotch and down his legs. He felt his tear-stained face go deep red when he heard the other members trying to contain their laughter. Pogo flat out laughed out loud, not even attempting to contain it, even Manson was snickering softly behind him. He lowered his head in shame and continued to sob. "God damn, he really is a bratty baby, isn't he?" laughed Pogo, "Well now he's a messy bratty baby." Manson scolded the younger man, "Really Joey? You couldn't wait just a couple of minutes? I suppose you wet yourself for attention, just like everything else, right?" Joey just cried harder, he felt small and he was completely humiliated.

"Now, are you going to apologize nicely this time?" asked Manson. Joey nodded, his head kept down, tears violently spilling from his eyes as he finally stopped urinating. "Then what do you say to Pogo?" Manson crossed his arms and waited patiently for Joey to speak. Joey sniffled, looking up at Pogo pitifully, "I'm sorry," he cried. His apology sounded true this time and Pogo looked over to Manson, nodding his approval, "Okay," was all he said. Joey was then put back into the corner the rest of the way to the hotel, having to listen to the band complain about the puddle on the floor. He felt ashamed. It was all going the way Manson planned. If Joey wanted attention, then he would get it, but it wasn't all going to be good. The proper attention Joey longed for was yet to come.

Once they were there, Manson was increasingly gentle toward him. His touch was much softer as he pulled the guitarist away from the corner, and he hushed him quietly, leading him out of the bus. Joey caught sight of his band mates outside as he was led in. They looked a bit shocked, Wednesday looked concerned. He turned to Manson, "Wha-" but before he could finish, Manson put his hand up, "I'll take care of it," he said calmly with a promising smile. Wednesday closed his mouth and simply nodded. Joey kept his head down the whole way to Manson's room, as if he was somehow trying to save himself from further humiliation. But he didn't think that was possible, he was already so embarrassed, he wished he could drop dead right there. Of course his wishes were not granted as Manson opened the door to his room and led Joey inside, softly closing the door behind them.

The rock star pointed to the chair, "Sit. Try to relax, okay?" his tone wasn't as harsh as before, and the look in his eyes was much softer, almost loving, it seemed. Joey obeyed and sat down in the chair, wincing at both his stinging bottom and the coldness of his urine pressed against him. It wasn't very comfortable at all. Manson went to the other room to retrieve a few things. A black and red pacifier, a box of baby wipes, a bottle of baby powder, and a three inch thick disposable diaper. He laid a towel out on the bed, where he would change his new baby. Manson wasn't sure if Joey would try to fight back or not, guess he would find out. He could always give another round of spankings to the smaller man, after all. He needed to show Joey that he was in total control.

The rock star went to get Joey, who was trembling in fear. Manson's heart wrenched as he tried to soothe the boy, "Shhh, it's gonna be okay," he whispered. He led Joey into the bedroom, and when he saw the things Manson had prepared on the bed for him, he completely broke down. He swiftly turned away and covered his face, in a sobbing fit once again. "Stop...please," he cried, "no more." Manson went over to face him, wiping his tears away with his thumbs, hushing him softly. "Please don't cry," he whispered, giving Joey a kiss on his forehead, "You've wanted this all along, haven't you?" asked the singer. Joey failed to respond, he just looked down to the floor in shame. Manson knew, "I'll give you the attention and love you deserve, Joey," he said with a warm smile, "I'll take care of you. Would you like that, baby?" He lifted Joey's chin gently and brushed a lock of hair from his pale face. Joey's thoughts were scattered everywhere, he hated the situation he was in...and yet, he loved it at the same time. He was so confused.

The little guitarist sniffled, and finally nodded, making the bigger man smile as his eyes lit up with love for his new baby boy. "Good," he kissed Joey's tear-stained cheek, "now let's get you out of those wet clothes," he said. Manson took Joey over to the bed and gently laid him down onto the towel. Joey's heart was racing as the rock star began to undo his pants, and pull them off, carelessly tossing them to the floor. He whimpered and whined a little as Manson opened the box of wipes and began to clean him up. "Hush, baby, hush," he cooed. He took the pacifier from the side of the bed where it lay, and placed it between the baby's lips. "Suck your paci," said Manson, as he continued the clean up job.

Joey gave in and suckled the pacifier like a newborn. He had to admit that Manson taking care of him like this felt really good. The rock star was now rubbing baby powder into his lower half, now, cooing at him softly and encouraging him to be a good boy. "See? I knew there was a good widdle boy underneath that hard shell," he said, chuckling softly. He unfolded the thick diaper that crinkled with movement, and Joey sucked his paci harder in anticipation. It was laid beneath his bare, reddened bum, pulled up between his legs, and taped up snug. So this is what being in a diaper felt like. Joey couldn't believe, it actually felt...nice. Manson gave the front a pat and he smiled down at his baby, who was looking a bit sleepy. The boy was lost in his thoughts.

"Awww, who's a sweet widdle baby boy?" gushed Manson, "That's right! You are!" He took a soft blue puppy plushie and put it in the guitarist's arms. "You look like you could use a bottle of warm milkies, and a nap, sweetie" cooed the singer. Joey couldn't help but blush at the baby talk Manson made. He thought it was quite cute. Manson rubbed the smaller man's tummy, "Stay right here and Daddy go get your ba ba" he smiled before going to the kitchen. Daddy? There was no way in hell Joey Jordison would call Marilyn Manson 'Daddy'. He wanted to spit the pacifier out, get up, and tell Manson to go fuck himself, but as soon as he sat up, he whined at the stinging pain on his bottom. The pain reminded him of what Manson was capable of. If he tried to escape now, it would mean another round of painful swats to his ass. He laid back down to the bed and sighed softly to himself. Guess Joey was just going to have to be a good boy and wait this one out. Who knows? It couldn't be too bad. The diaper he was in was warm and soft, and it felt nice on his groin. He could probably get used to it if he tried.

Manson warmed up a bottle of milk and went back to his little boy in bed, who was huffing and sniffling softly. "Sounds like someone's fussy," he cooed. He sat down by Joey and cradled him in his lap. He pulled the pacifier from his mouth and held the bottle nipple up to his lips. Joey pouted and whined, turning away a little. Yeah, he was definitely a little fussy baby. Manson smiled, his face held a look of complete patience, "Come on, sweetie, it's just warm milk, it's not going to hurt you," he said. He tapped the younger man's soft lips with the nipple. Once again, Joey gave in, and he cursed at himself in his mind for doing so. There he was, in Marilyn Manson's lap, suckling milk from a baby bottle. He was just a baby right now. He didn't want to like it, but part of him couldn't help but enjoy the love and attention Manson gave. His hatred for the babying was slowly overcome with his secret loving of it.

Manson smiled as he fed his baby, cooing softly and encouraging him to be a good boy. He knew the warm milk was making Joey tired, as the smaller man began to blink heavily, fighting back sleep. Manson stroked his hair and kissed his forehead, "That's a good boy," he cooed, "See? You like being a good little baby, don't you?" Joey blushed, he didn't want to make it seem like he was enjoying this, but somehow, the world around him was starting to even out. He had been used to so much chaos and anger, but right now he was completely at peace. And from what? A soft diaper and a warm bottle? Joey found it hard to believe that he was feeling better from such babying. But the bigger man who cradled Joey did not find this hard to believe at all. Joey needed care one way or another.

Joey's face was serene as the bottle was slowly finished off. This probably wasn't such a bad thing in the end. This was the attention that he longed for all along, he couldn't deny it anymore. Manson was satisfied, as he put the empty bottle on the night table, "Very good," he said, smiling. He was proud of his boy. He put Joey over his shoulder and pat small circles over his back. The guitarist blushed as he let out a satisfying burp, drooling a bit in the process. Manson chuckled and wiped his lips before kissing his nose, "Sweet baby boy," he cooed. The pacifier was put back into Joey's mouth, as Daddy lay him back down to the bed, tucking him in for a nap. The baby was very tired, he figured a nap wouldn't hurt.

It didn't take him very long adjusting to all of this, it was attention after all. Joey loved attention, just like a baby. He sucked his paci peacefully, trying hard to fight back slumber, and failing. Manson was right there at the side of the bed, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings to him. Finally Joey closed his eyes, thinking of the sweetest of things yet to come, bottles, diapers, toys, and Daddy's love. He was slowly drifting into sleep when he felt Manson leave the bed side. He slowly opened his eyes a bit and noticed the tall man walking away. He whined and reached his arms out to him, "Daddy..." he squeaked behind his paci. He figured it was no use trying to hide his love for this any more. Manson turned around, looking concerned. Joey was drunk on sleep, fighting with every bit of his strength not to drift off without his Daddy beside him.

He squeaked again, barely audible, his ice blue eyes half open, "Daddy, sweep by me." It came out as a plead as he made grabby hands toward the bigger man. Manson blinked, surprised, and smiled warmly. He was such a little baby. Manson went over to the boy, willingly getting under the covers with him, "Shh, baby, Daddy's here," he whispered, kissing Joey on the temple, "It's okay baby boy." Joey snuggled happily into his new Daddy's embrace, and he believed it. Everything was okay, all because Daddy was there to make him safe and sound. He finally fell fast asleep, Daddy spooning him in the bed. He knew that he was in a safe place, and Daddy wasn't going to leave him.

Joey no longer needed to seek attention from anyone else. He finally found it in the warm, loving arms of the Anti-Christ himself. He was happy, for once. And he'd hoped to stay that way forever.


End file.
